


This Life Is Overwhelming And I'm Ready For The Next One

by InfamousRowe



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: All relationships besides Jon/Tim will be background, Alternate Universe, Asexual Jonathan Sims, Canon-Typical Violence, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Entities are known, F/F, M/M, Pan Tim Stoker, Swearing, Tim Lives, Tim gets thrown into another universe, let me know if something doesn’t seem right tho, may continue this, might be ooc cuz of the au, no guarantees sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:21:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22400032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfamousRowe/pseuds/InfamousRowe
Summary: The Unknowing didn’t kill Tim like he had hoped. Instead, he was thrown into another universe altogether and he has to figure out how to move on with his life and decide what to do with Jonathan Sims.
Relationships: Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Jonathan Sims/Tim Stoker
Comments: 6
Kudos: 59





	This Life Is Overwhelming And I'm Ready For The Next One

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly a test for now. I am eventually planning on continuing and changing/lengthening this first chapter, but I felt I should post _something_ since my lovely readers on 100% Riot have been waiting for so long for my idiot ass to get writing. School is a bitch atm so I won’t have much time to work on this or my main fic but I wanted to put this out there. Hope y’all like it :)

“Statement of Timothy Stoker, given August 1st, 2017. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, The Archivist. Statement begins.”

 _We used to be friends, Jon and I, before he became head archivist. He’s a snob, always was and probably always will be. I hated… no, I_ hate _him. For all he’s done, and all he didn’t do. It all went downhill when he got Gertrude’s old job. We probably would’ve remained friends, if he hadn’t brought me down to the archives with him. Then the weird shit started happening. And yes, I knew about the_ spooky _things before I got the job at The Magnus Institute. You’ve heard about my brother Danny, no need to go over it all again. Things wouldn’t have even been all that bad with the Prentiss incident if Jon hadn’t started_ stalking _us. We_ all _went through that shit, Jon. We were probably the only people you_ could _trust._

_Except Sasha, in the end. But that wasn’t her fault, she got replaced by Not-Sasha. None of us can even remember her. Not her face, barely her voice, and only because of those fucking recordings we still have of her; even Melanie who still remembers the real Sasha can’t remember what she looked like._

(Sigh) _I got off track. Yeah, Jon and I used to be friends. At the end, I hate him. I hate everything. I just want it to end. That’s why I’m going with them to the House of Wax museum. I plan on going with a_ bang. _The Stranger won’t know what hit them. I can’t keep going like this otherwise. If there was a way to leave the Institute, if I could have a_ normal _life, then maybe I would think twice about my plan. But I can’t find anything. I’ve looked. If there is a way, then it’s either hidden in the depths of the Archives or it’s been destroyed._

(Pause) _I guess this is as good a time as any to get everything off my chest. I won’t be around anymore. I hate Jon now, that much is obvious. But before that, I actually kinda liked him. And not just in the coworker-acquaintance way. He was smart and fairly resourceful, but could still be idiotic and… human. The man was a brick wall though. Nothing got through him. I’m not sure if he just didn’t realize but considering Martin’s crush and Jon’s ignorance of it, I’m not all that surprised. I think I tried asking him out once and he looked confused, said he_ “didn’t have time to ‘hang out’ with coworkers,” _the dunce._

 _It’s all too late now. I don’t plan on coming back from this._ (Long pause and a weary sigh) _I just wanted the others to know that they were my friends. I don’t regret coming to the Institute, even with everything that happened. It’s allowing me my revenge and it let me meet these people. Just wish things had turned out differently. Probably couldn’t have. Not with what happened to Danny. Oh well. I guess this is goodbye._

“Statement ends.” A sigh. “Fuck. Goddamnit, Tim.” Jon pushed back from the desk, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Supplemental: We never found his body. When the building exploded, he was at the epicenter. Granted I was as well, but I’m not exactly… human any more. But we should have found something. Anything. There were remains of just about everything else. It’s like he disappeared. I guess, no matter what happened to him, he got his revenge just like he wanted.”

_____________________

When he woke he could tell something was wrong; he was no longer in the wax museum and was instead in a bed next to another person. Their chest rose and fell, body relaxed in sleep with a blanket wrapped around them tightly and obscuring them at first. Waking up to another person wasn’t the strange part, it was the fact that this other person was _Jonathan Fucking Sims_. Tim’s body went rigid, eyes wide with surprise. He slipped out of the bed, keeping an eye on his boss to make sure he didn’t wake him. His eyes raked around the scene, trying to find something that told him this was all some kind of nightmare or the work of the Stranger. He couldn’t see any creepy taxidermy animals nor did Jon look like a mannequin. Tim looked himself over, trying to find any sign of the explosion that should have killed him. There was no sign of something like that, and nothing seemed particularly _wrong_ besides the fact that he had been in bed with _Jon Sims_.

Tim searched for a way out of the room and went to the first door he saw. It was a bathroom, but it was better than staying in the room with the Archivist sleeping in the bed. He had no idea what to do. Everything was weird and wasn’t what he remembered. Having Jon in his bed was the biggest sign of that; but other than that, at the moment it was just the feeling that things were different. That things were slightly to the side somehow. The mirror caught his eye and he stopped to look at himself in the reflection. He looked the same at least, so there was that. The only difference was the lack of indenting scars on his skin from the _worms._ Now that he thought about it, Jon hadn’t had any either. He gripped the sink edge tightly, knuckles going white. What did this mean? Where was he and how the fuck did he get there? He remembered the explosion, he remembered the heat and the pain, but none of that was here. No scars, no deep purple bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, no premature wrinkles or grey hair. No sign that he had gone through the wringer and back. His hands shakily let go of the sink, poking and prodding his skin and tugging on his slightly shorter hair.

Something was definitely wrong, but Tim didn’t know just how much was different. He crept back out to the bedroom, moving over to Jon who was still asleep with a peaceful look on his face. That in and of itself was a huge difference. Jon rarely looked anything other than stressed whenever Tim saw him, so this sight… well, it actually looked really good on him. Made him look younger. That was helped by the fact that his characteristic grey strands of hair were no longer there for him either. He just seemed more at ease than Tim had _ever_ seen him.

There was a shift from him in the bed and Tim stepped away a bit, startled.

“Tim?” Jon’s voice reached him easily in the silence of the room. It was rough with sleep but warm. “Where did you go?” He turned over and looked in Tim’s direction, brown eyes quickly finding him. “Ah, there you are.” The man sat up with a yawn, stretching a bit. His shirt rode up with the movement, showing off a strip of light brown skin at his waist where the only thing that disrupted the smooth skin were a few beauty marks. He blinked a few times and paused when he saw Tim’s expression. “Something wrong?”

“I, uh,” Tim looked away, unsure how to explain what was going on. “I don’t think I’m supposed to be here.”

Jon’s brows furrowed. “What?”

“I’m not supposed to be here!” He yelled, throwing his hands in the air in frustration.

“What the hell are you talking about, Tim?”

“I just woke up. I wasn’t here just a few minutes ago—I was dying. I was destroying the Stranger!” He started to pace the room, hands going to his hair. “I should be dead, not… not here with _Jonathan Sims_ in my bed.” Tim heard a soft noise from the bed but he didn’t want to look over.

“Tim,” there was a hand on his arm, gently coaxing him to a stop. “Babe, calm down.”

Tim froze, eyes wide. “Babe?” He whispered. “What. The. _Fuck_.”

“Okay now you’re freaking me out.” Jon took a half step back. “We defeated the Stranger a few weeks ago. There weren’t any casualties. Basira and Daisy helped us out while Martin distracted the Stranger. Gertrude took care of the Institute and Elias stayed back to continue taking statements.”

“Ger-Gertrude?” Tim gaped at Jon. “As in Gertrude Robinson? The woman who died and you took over the job as Archivist for?”

“Gertrude isn’t dead. What are you talking about? What’s going on with you?”

“I told you! Things are different! Gertrude is supposed to be dead, Elias is supposed to be the head of the Institute, and _we’re_ _not together_.”

Jon was quiet for a few moments as he watched Tim’s face, likely looking for a lie. “Something must’ve happened…” He paused, stepping back a bit more. “Maybe we should head into the Institute, figure it out.”

Tim scowled. “I don’t want to go near the Institute ever again. Maybe I can actually get away from the place now with what’s happening. It’s a death trap.”

Jon sighed, unscarred hands coming up to rub his face. “I’ll go then. Talk to Gertrude and Gerard.” He walked over to the side table and grabbed his phone, standing there and texting.

“Who are you texting?” Tim asked, feeling out of it with all this shit happening.

“Danny. I let him know what’s going on. Maybe he can help.”

“Danny?” Tim stopped, back straight. “That’s not funny, Jon.” He growled, eyes narrowing. “Danny’s dead. He’s been dead for years.”

Jon stopped where he was, looking over at Tim again with surprise. “Either you’re from another universe or you had some kind of break. I wouldn’t be surprised about either of them with the way the world is. Any of the Entities could have something to do with it.” He tapped his chin, thinking over what he knew.

“What the hell are _you_ talking about now? How’d you come up with a different universe as a possibility?”

Jon raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t that make the most sense? If what you’re saying is true then everything is different for you. It’s either a different universe or an Entity fucking things up in your mind.”

A pause and then “Fuck,” was exhaled quietly.


End file.
